


Confidence

by romans



Category: Hannibal (TV), Stoker (2013)
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romans/pseuds/romans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He gets almost nothing out of her during their first session. She is eighteen, and an orphan. She lives with her uncle. They moved to Maryland after her mother hung herself on a bedpost. She doesn't feel much like talking about it, thank you. Her smile is prim and sweet, and completely fake. </p><p>(AU for Stoker, based on prompt: Crossover: Stoker, India & Hannibal (& Charlie?) )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confidence

He gets almost nothing out of her during their first session. She is eighteen, and an orphan. She lives with her uncle. They moved to Maryland after her mother hung herself on a bedpost. She doesn't feel much like talking about it, thank you. Her smile is prim and sweet, and completely fake. 

_That's_ interesting. She's the polar opposite to Will- she sits primly in her chair, feet crossed at the ankles, hands on her knees, and her southern accent wavers in and out depending on how sweet she's trying to be. 

It's like talking, quite literally, to a brick wall. 

Hannibal studies her for a moment, and then quite deliberately moves the box of tissues to the table beside her chair. 

"Do you miss your mother?" he asks. India blinks.

"Of course," she says. She sounds like she's asking a question. Not so much as a glimmer of emotion. She doesn't even look at the tissue box.

Hannibal tries another tack.

"And your father?"

Her smile is a little more genuine, this time. 

"We used to go hunting together," she says. 

"Ah," he says. "You hunt? I enjoy a bit of sport myself." 

"It's... exciting," she says. Blood suffuses the skin of her neck, turning her chest faintly rosy in the dim light of his office. Her pupils have dilated. Hannibal takes this in, and then he understands her completely. 

"Yes," he says. He gives the next part a little more weight, more significance. "Especially big game." 

"Deer," she says, truly smiling. "Charlie and I like to go hunting together."

"I prefer to hunt wild pig," Hannibal says mildly. He steeples his hands. 

"Miss Stoker," he says. "Everything we discuss here is subject to doctor-client confidentiality. No one will ever know what we talk about. And I know that you don't want therapy. You are, eh-" he pauses for effect.

"You are here so that the police will think you miss your mother," he says. Her smile has faded into a frown. 

"No one will ever know otherwise, my dear," he says. "I am very good at keeping secrets." 

Her face is so still and flat that it's like looking into a mirror. He recognizes her, one predator to another. 

"You keep secrets?" she asks. 

" _Many,_ " Hannibal says. 

She gives him an assessing look, and then nods. Her whole demeanor has changed: she's leaning forward now, relaxed and sensual and easy, and her eyes seem brighter. They share a conspiratorial smile. When Hannibal looks at the clock, her hour is nearly up.

"My uncle is waiting," she says suddenly. Hannibal stands up when she does, and shows her to the door.

Will is sitting in the waiting room, studiously ignoring the man who must be Uncle Charlie. Charlie, despite his elegant slouch on the ottoman, is ignoring Will just as deliberately. 

Hannibal allows himself a small, amused smile at the spectacle, and wonders what would happen if Will got a good look at either of the Stokers. He tips his chin when Charlie meets his eyes, one hunter to another. Charlie's eyebrows shoot up even as he rises to take India's arm. He recognizes Hannibal for what he is. Hannibal turns his attention to Will, who is fumbling for his glasses, and doesn't comment when India walks out wrapped around her uncle in a decidedly unhealthy manner. 

Everyone must be allowed a few vices, after all. Hannibal ushers poor Will into his office and closes the door behind them.


End file.
